


La Vent

by CynicalModerate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Humor, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 05:51:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/427623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynicalModerate/pseuds/CynicalModerate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is in pain and Dean tries to figure out what's wrong. The answer is a surprise to the both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	La Vent

* * *

Humanity will always be a foreign concept to Castiel, despite the fact he has technically been one for about six months now. Dean understands that there is a need for adjustment, that what he and Sam take for granted and treat with bored familiarity, Castiel sees with the innocence of a child. When the former angel comes across something new to him there is a moment of terror and excitement and curiosity all wrapped up into one which expounds Dean's expectations. A broken bone and torn flesh are treated with sulking irritation, the burn of pain producing a new kind of fear now that is mingled with the realization of mortality. Food is an abstract concept; it takes months for Castiel to understand that while the Winchesters can eat large portions of food without getting sick the attempt to imitate them with result in nausea and, once, vomiting. They teach him to hunt as they were taught, learning his limitations and finding better ways to help him, bear the brunt of his frustration when he fails and remembers a time he was boundless and without physical form.

But Dean thinks that there will always be a distance between what is humanity and that which Castiel has become – that he'll never truly be like he and Sam. Nothing cements that thought more than the time he comes back to hotel room and finds the blue-eyed man hunched over Sam's laptop with a worried expression.

"Cas?"

The man doesn't look up but rather winces and continues to stare at the screen, his face contorted in an uncomfortable expression before a moment passes and the worried expression returns. Dean drops his duffel at the foot of the bed and approaches Castiel, a slight touch to the shoulder making the set of bright eyes snap up at him in alarm.

"What's wrong?"

"I need you to get me some tampons."

Dean blinks for a moment and tries to grasp what he was just asked. "What?"

Castiel gives him an exasperated look and sets his jaw. "I need you to get me some tampons," he repeats slightly slower.

The hunter takes a step back and blinks again, finally processing the request. "Why the hell do you need tampons? Do you even know what those are?"

"They are devices used to absorb the flow of menstrual fluid," says Castiel without missing a beat.

"Yeah, right – Cas, you got no-" Deans swallows and wrinkles his nose at the word, " _menstrual fluids_  to absorb."

"I disagree," says Castiel, opening his mouth to say something more but halting as another wince of pain overtakes him. Dean watches the former angel hold his breath and close his eyes, hands gripping the edge of the table before relaxing.

"What's going on, dude?" asks Dean worriedly, kneeling down next to the man. Castiel settles his worried face on the other man and thinks for a moment.

"My stomach hurts," he explains, touching his middle lightly. "The pain is quite intense."

"You sure you just don't need to poop?" ask Dean. Castiel gives him an irritated look and the hunter realizes he just used what Sam calls his 'toddler tone' on the man. "Sorry."

"I don't have to go to the bathroom. The pressure is…different."

"So there's pressure?"

"There's pain," emphasizes Castiel, grunting again and looking at the computer. "Web MD leads me to believe I'm having menstrual cramps."

The man looked at him with wide, frightened eyes and quite seriously says, "Dean, I think I'm having my period."

Right then Dean would have found the situation precious and hilarious if the content wasn't so disturbing. Still, there is a tick of a smile that creeps onto his face and he tries desperately to hide it, yet Castiel sees it anyway and frowns.

"Dean, it is not funny," he says with a note of hurt, another moment of pain seizing him. Dean shakes his head and puts on a serious face.

"No, no, you're right," says Dean, turning the laptop toward him and focusing on the screen. "But Cas, man, you  _can't_  have a period."

"But Dean-" protests Castiel.

Dean clicks a link and shakes his head again. "Cas, I'm serious – only women get periods. Look."

He turns the screen back to the man and pats him on the shoulder, watching the blue gaze absorb the new bit of information. An embarrassed tinge of pink spreads across Castiel's face and glances over at Dean.

"I see," he mumbles.

Dean gives a little laugh, but frowns again at the grunt Castiel gives. "Do we need to take you to the doctor?" he asks, unsure of what to do.

"Web MD said I might have appendicitis," says Castiel.

Dean stands up and tugs the other man up by the arm, rolling his eyes. "It also said you having a period – I'm not ready to jump on its diagnosis. Here, lay down on the bed."

Castiel complied, laying down flat on his back reluctantly and watching Dean carefully. The hunter sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at the man, moving Castiel's hands away from his stomach and tenderly probing the area.

"Okay, so where is the pain? Here?"

Castiel shakes his head. "Lower," he grunts.

Dean moves a few inches lower and pushes the area just above the waistband of his jeans. "I swear to God – you better not have hernia," mumbles Dean. "I am  _not_  checking you for that."

Another probe below his navel and Castiel grunts in pain, his face twisting. "There," he says, body tensing. Dean prods the spot.

"Here?"

"Yes, it hurts quite a bit."

"What's it like?"

"Painful," complains Castiel. Dean rolls his eyes again.

"I get that, I meant what kind of pain?" asks Dean. "You said there was pressure-"

It was then Castiel farted. Not a quick toot or gush of air, but a massive, loud, long, rude fart that impresses and disgusts Dean at the same time. The men stare at each other in shock, words unable to form and muscles momentarily paralyzed. Then Castiel shifts and blinks a few times before pushing up on his elbows.

"I feel better," he says.

"You just had to fart? You can't tell what a fart feels like? Jesus, Cas, I was getting ready to take you to the friggin' hospital!" Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Then he smelled it.

His eyes popped open and began to water, hands covering his mouth as he jumped up and bolted to the other side of the room. "Son of a bitch, Cas!"

Castiel sits up and swings his legs off the bed, giving the air a little sniff before turning near green himself. Thin hands cover his nose and blue eyes look toward Dean in confusion.

"What is that?" he asks, voice muffled.

"That's you!" response Dean. He can almost taste it.

"Do I require a bath?" asks Castiel, a slight note of horror in his voice.

"You damn well may! Dude, check your pants!"

As Castiel dashes to the bathroom in shock and fear, Sam chooses this moment to enter with the evening's dinner. There a moment of complete happiness on his face before the smile melts away and he drops the food to the floor and backs up.

"What the fu-what  _died_ in here?" he shouts, running back outside and gulping down the fresh air like water. Dean follows quickly and briefly wonders if all their stuff will have to be burned to get the smell out.

"Dean, what is that smell?" yells Sam, almost irate.

"Humanity," grumbles Dean.


End file.
